When we were on our trip, we had this wonderful little pipe dream that someday we'd put our stories on paper, not just the internet. We'd gather recipes from all the extraordinary people we’d met along the way, a collection that could speak to the diversity of not only Canada’s (crazy good) food, but also its people and its landscape.

A book seemed rather ambitious, but since we'd managed to travel 37,000 km in one piece, and that at first that had seemed extreme, we decided to write a proposal. A very long, painstakingly-written one. Then we got introduced to Robert McCullough and the fine folks at Random House Canada, and handed off our proposal to them. And then, after a few months of nail-biting and frequent shouts to the sky, begging it to tell us "WHAT IS ROBERT THINKING!?" he got back to us. And said yes. HE SAID YES TO OUR PROPOSAL. The wedding book launch is planned for Spring 2017, just in time for Canada’s 150th birthday!

We’ll never be able to explain just how thrilled we were with that news. Or how wonderful it has been to work with dozens of talented chefs, farmers, food producers, and others from all across the country. This is our tribute to Canada’s food and food community, and we are so, so thankful to have the opportunity to do it.

When I sat down to write this, I had a cup of tea next to me. When I sat down to finish it, I had another, and a third will keep me company as I edit the photos. Tea is my ritual, my companion, my main source of caffeine; for some reason, though my body has opted to reject coffee, it has fully embraced the concept of gnarly-looking fermented leaves soaked in water.

Our epic, 7-hour train journey from Kandy to Bandarawela took us high into the mountains. I was now in tea. RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF IT. As we pulled in, green mountains dominated the view, and a sign on the outskirts of town welcomed us to “The Cool Climes of Bandarawela” (I, for one, continued to sweat). We checked into the Orient Hotel, and I discovered my room overlooked a golden-domed mosque.

When a country is mentioned, I usually first think of its landscapes. Someone says Bolivia, and salt flats appear. For Iceland, it’s those mighty waterfalls. Italy is a neatly-laid vineyard. The words ‘Sri Lanka’ have always summoned thoughts of women plucking handfuls of tea, tiny figures within expansive green hills.

Our last few days in Kandy were a flurry of pineapples and processions. One evening, a local family – Kolitha, Deepthi, Chamodi, and Dilumi – hosted me for a cooking lesson and dinner. Their home sat next to a flooded rice paddie, and their two shy, beautiful daughters welcomed me by placing a green betel leaf in my palm, a symbol of friendship and respect.

After a quick stop in Melkwe arrived in Vienna, a city famous for its coffee culture. The first coffee house appeared in 1685 and quickly gained popularity, thus beginning a long-standing cultural tradition. They are an extension of the living room, a place where people can spend hours reading, writing, meeting, or working.

Two great things: discovering new ways to eat sweets, and learning from experienced cooks. During my time in Sri Lanka I was taught how to cook on many occasions, and only half the time did my teachers and I share a common language. Our respective abilities to comprehend English and Sinhalese didn’t matter much, because that’s the thing about learning to cook - ultimately, you just have to be capable of watching attentively, and eating.

After meeting up and hitting the road with my World Nomads'Passport and Plate crew, we finally arrived in Kandy, a city with Bogambara Lake at its centre. The lake was constructed by King Sri Vikrama Rajasinha in the 19th century, with a square island that apparently used to be the king’s private bathing facility, and was connected to the palace by a secret tunnel. That is one expensive bathroom.

After leaving Passau, we sailed into Austria and made our way to the Wachau Valley, an area renowned for apricots and grapes. The apricots are made into fine desserts and excellent schnapps, and the grapes—particularly Reisling and Grüner Veltliners—are turned into the wines the Valley is famous for.

Lindsay here! As you may have read earlier, I travelled to Sri Lanka this past June as part of World Nomads' Passport and Plate program with Intrepid Travel. Here’s my first of a series of posts I’ve been writing for them, which I’ll be sharing here once a week. In the Fall, there will be three videos from kickass videographer Seth Coleman, who filmed my trip. I'm kind of terrified to see them, since I was sweaty and inarticulate the entire time, but I promise to share them nonetheless.

Passau is a small city sitting at the confluence of three rivers: the Inn, the Ilz, and the Danube. Because of this, Passau is prone to flooding, a fact that proved true during our short time in the city. It rained hard while we were there, and the riverside walkways were beginning to be overtaken by the river.